


let it happen.

by autoheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:25:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autoheart/pseuds/autoheart
Summary: “All this running around, I can't fight it much longer. Something's trying to get out, and it's never been closer.”Draco just wanted a quiet night out, but Potter came along and ruined his plans.





	let it happen.

“A muggle bar? Really?”

The familiar voice at Draco’s ear nearly made him drop the tumbler of whiskey he was holding. 

He turned on the bar stool to face the owner of the voice, his eyes traveling over a face he had resigned himself to never see again. At least not in person, not this close. Especially not at the bar right across the street from his flat. 

“Potter,” he said stiffly. “I could say the same to you.” 

“Not really,” Harry replied, taking the seat next to Draco without asking if it was taken. It wasn’t, but he didn’t appreciate that Potter would just assume. “Spent the first eleven years of my life living as a muggle, you know.” 

“How could I forget?” Draco sighed. “Spent the first eleven years of  _ my _ life hearing speculations as to when you’d turn up.” 

“What are you doing here, Malfoy?” Harry asked, reaching out and taking the glass of whiskey from Draco’s loose grip and taking a swig. He grimaced. “Can’t ever get used to muggle liquor.” 

“Then don’t drink it,” Draco sneered, taking his glass back and setting it far away from Potter. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Harry said, flagging down the bartender and holding up two fingers. “Why are you hiding out?” 

“I’m not hiding,” he answered, with little conviction. 

The bartender set down two more glasses of whiskey, for which Potter thanked him. 

“Sure looks like it,” Harry said, turning back to Draco. “No one has seen hide nor hair of you since eighth year.” Harry paused, scooting his bar stool closer to Draco’s, their bodies touching from shoulder to knee. Draco felt slightly dizzy. 

“And now you’re here,” Potter said, lowering his voice despite their newfound proximity. “In a muggle bar, in muggle London, wearing muggle clothes. It’s a bit out of character, Malfoy.” 

“Interesting observation. One would think, perhaps, having gone so far out of my way to be  _ out of character,  _ as you put it, that I’d best be left alone,” Draco answered, his mouth dry. He reluctantly accepted the fresh glass of alcohol. 

“One would think,” Harry agreed. 

 

Draco was hyper aware of the other man’s gaze upon him. Not that that was new, but it had been so long since anyone, let alone Potter,  had looked at him so intently; he had forgotten the way it made his skin prickle. 

“I know what you’re up to,” Potter said, finally. 

“Do enlighten me,” Draco urged, raising his eyebrows. 

“I mean, I can guess. I can guess that in a bar like this, the name Malfoy carries no weight. And,” Potter said, gaze falling to the exposed skin on Draco’s forearm, were the dull, dark lines of the Mark were etched into his skin. Draco flinched as Harry took his wrist in one hand, lifting his forearm for a closer look. Harry ran his forefinger down the curvature of the snake’s body. Draco shivered in spite of himself. “This just looks like a tattoo that some twenty-something would have because it’s edgy. Am I right?” 

Draco shrugged, pulling his arm back, ignoring the way the parts Potter had touched felt like they were on fire. 

“You hide, despite the fact that you are no longer considered a criminal,” Harry began, whispering fervently. 

“By the ministry. By… By you” Draco said, slowly, cutting the words out of the air that had begun to feel so thick around him. “But the rest of the world…. They still see me as what I did, Potter. I don’t blame them.” 

“Right,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes. “Right, let a bunch of half rate wizards that know fuck-all about you push you into hiding to waste all of your potential as one of the brightest wizards in your class. That’s fine.” 

“Who said you know any more about me than they do?” 

“I’d like to think I do, Malfoy. We’ve had an…..” Potter began, the pause weighing heavily between them. “An understanding of each other, unspoken though it may be. Forgive me if I’m wrong, I just always felt that despite our differences, maybe even through our differences, I  _ know _ you.”

_ I think he’s right,  _ a voice at the back of Draco’s mind chimed in, but he didn’t dare agree out loud. 

“But you couldn’t possibly understand, Potter. You’re the Boy Who Fucking Lived, Twice. And I’m the Boy Who Tried To Stop You. There isn’t a place for me anymore, not where we’re from. I’m not sure there ever was.” 

“So you  _ are _ hiding, then?” Potter asked. 

“Yes, okay, are you happy?” 

“No,” Potter said. “No, not at all. I’d much rather have you at work with me, where I can keep an eye on you.” 

 

Draco studied Potter carefully. “Work with you?” 

“I’m teaching Defense at Hogwarts. McGonagall was ready to offer you a position in Potions, but before she could, you were gone,” Harry shrugged.

“Why on earth would she offer a position to a former Death Eater? I hardly think people want their children taught by someone like.. Well, someone like me,” Draco trailed off quietly. 

“Seems that former Death Eater is the type they go for in a Potions master, unless you forgot about Snape,” Harry smiled. “And because I suggested you.” 

“I don’t need you getting me a job out of pity, Potter,” Draco sneered. 

“It wasn’t out of pity. You were always ace at potions,” Harry said, furrowing his brow and not quite meeting Draco’s eye. 

 

Draco studied the other man’s face, dumbfounded. He didn’t know Potter had noticed things he was good at, nor did he expect him to remember all these years later. He tried to find the right words, how to be  _ in character,  _ since that seemed to be what Potter wanted. 

“Well, if you’re just here to drag me back with you, think again,” Draco replied, the coolness in his voice contradicting the heat in his cheeks. 

“Good thing that’s not the only reason I’m here,” Potter smiled, knocking back another sip of his drink, accompanied by another face of distaste. 

“Why are you here then?” Draco asked, surprised to find he was disappointed. 

“You’re not the only one who likes to go out unnoticed,” Harry shrugged. “Sometimes it’s nice not to have people throwing themselves at you when you’re just trying to get a little drunk.” 

“I can’t say I’m familiar with that problem,” Draco rolled his eyes, taking a sip from his drink. Harry was right, muggle whiskey had nothing on firewhiskey, but he wasn’t going to let Harry know he thought so. 

Harry finished off his drink with a shudder. “That’s surprising to hear,” Harry said, “You being you.” 

Draco let his eyes find Harry’s. That must not have been his first drink, going by the glazed look he had going behind his glasses. 

“Me being me?” Draco asked, tightening his grip on his glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You know. All broody and fit,” Harry explained. “Especially here. Muggle clothes suit you, Malfoy,” Harry added, his eyes dragging down Draco’s body, those all too familiar prickles following in their wake. 

Draco didn’t feel impressive enough to garner a look like that. He looked quite generic really, just in a white dress shirt and dark jeans, but the way Harry looked at him made him feel like he was wearing nothing at all. His breath caught in his throat. 

“Broody?” he managed to choke out. 

“Yeah. The whole mysterious boy with a lot of pain behind his eyes is a look a lot of women go for, isn’t it?” Harry said, and if there was any sign of insincerity in his voice, Draco couldn’t detect it. 

“Right,” he nodded. “I don’t make myself easy to talk to, so I don’t think the broody thing is working out for me,” he continued. 

“Not being easy to talk to is part of the broody thing. That’s part of the appeal,” Harry laughed, and Draco decided that the drink they had shared had undoubtedly been Harry’s fourth or fifth. He had always been rather tight lipped around Draco, and suddenly he was talking to him like they were old friends. 

 

Then a thought entered his mind.  _ It’s not Potter. _

His heart nearly stopped. Someone else had found him. He didn’t know who, and he didn’t know why, maybe to get rid of him once and for all. Somehow they knew he would trust Potter and they had made a Polyjuice to get this far. Potter would never approach him like this.

“I have to go,” Draco muttered. 

“So soon?” Harry asked, the smile falling from his face. 

“Yes,” Draco said, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

“Did I say something to offen-”

“Goodnight, Potter. I think…. I think it would do you well if you didn’t try to see me again. It’s better that you pretend you don’t  _ know  _ me like you think you do,” Draco interrupted, pushing away from the bar quickly and hurrying out the door. 

 

He had made it a good way along the street before he heard Potter ( _ not  _ Potter) calling his name. 

“Malfoy! Malfoy, wait, let me apologize,” he called. 

Draco ignored him, thanking himself for not straying too far from home that night. He walked through the doors of his building, just opposite and diagonal of the bar. He half ran, half walked to the elevator, pushing the call button and willing it not to be painfully slow, just this once. He supposed he could use magic, but his wand was upstairs and it had been so long since he had done wandless magic. 

 

The elevator doors dinged open just as the entry to his building opened behind him. Draco stepped on and jammed the close door button repeatedly, but with no avail. 

 

He look up to see Potter walking towards him, staring intently at the doorway. Draco understood that it was his fault, that he was performing a wordless spell to keep the door open. 

 

Harry stepped into the elevator. 

“I’m sorry if I was coming on-”

“I know you aren’t him. Tell me who you are and why you’re here,” Draco cut him off. 

Harry looked at him as though he had been slapped, shock written across his face, only to have it quickly replaced by something akin to relief. 

“Malfoy, it’s me,” Harry insisted. Draco faltered. Those were his eyes, and he was almost certain he had seen that look in them before, the same exact pleading look that he had seen at the Manor. But if you had a replicated face, he was sure you could replicate a look. 

“How am I supposed to know that?” Malfoy whispered. “You never spoke to me before unless you had to.” 

“I’ve changed. You’ve changed. The world has changed, Malfoy. I’d like to think we live in a world where Malfoys and Potters can have a drink together without going at each other’s throats, wouldn’t you?” Harry stepped closer to Draco as he spoke. Draco felt as though the other man, despite being a few inches shorter than him, took up ninety percent of the space in the lift. 

 

Malfoy eyed the unpressed buttons. He didn’t want to press his floor, because then this person would know where he lived, and he wasn’t fully convinced. So he pressed the open door button. It didn’t open. 

“It’s really me, Malfoy,” Harry repeated. “Please. I’m really just here to offer you the job. Nothing more insidious than that.” 

“I thought you weren’t just here to see me,” Draco replied slowly. 

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been known to lie every once in awhile.” 

“So how do I know you’re not lying when you say you’re Potter?” 

“How about this, if I can’t convince you that it’s me in an elevator ride, I’ll leave you be,” Harry replied, and there was another look in his eye, one that Draco felt couldn’t be replicated by even the best of impersonators: the look Harry got in his eye when he was most definitely up to something. 

 

“Fine. One elevator ride,” Malfoy agreed. 

“Great,” Harry smiled and proceeded to hit every single button on the wall panel. “Might as well make it a long one, then.” 

“That’s cheating!” 

“There’s your first proof,” Harry smiled. “I’ve never been one for following rules, have I?” 

“You’re insufferable,” Draco groaned, pushing an overwhelming wave of fondness away while mentally repeating  _ it can’t be him, it can’t be him, it can’t be Him.  _

“Proof number two, since that seems to be your long held opinion of me,” Harry replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, as Draco had seen him do so many times in school. 

 

“Ok, but what about all the things Harry Potter would never do, starting with you buying me a drink,” Malfoy said, as though that discredited anything. 

“You looked like you needed it,” Harry shrugged. The door dinged open and shut on the second floor. 

“Right, Saint Potter, always there to help those in need. You remember what my best subject in school was,” Draco added. 

“I spent a good deal of my time watching you,” Harry replied, his gaze lowering from Malfoy’s. “When you warranted watching,” he added quickly.

“You said I was  _ fit _ ,” Draco said, his exasperation heightening. 

“I have eyes, Malfoy,” Harry laughed. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I can look at you and notice that you’re fit, what fucking else?” 

Draco swallowed heavily. The door dinged, opened, and closed again. 

“I’d ask you to tell me something only we knew, but it seems every interaction we’ve ever had was aired out in the trial,” Draco sighed. It seemed like the only answer was to trust Potter, and trust had never been his strong suit. 

Harry furrowed his brow. 

Ding. Open. Close. 

“When we were young, you sent me a note, a drawing, of me being struck by lightning, which was to be expected of you, I guess. I just always found it odd that you had folded it into a paper crane. Even your insults had to be elegant, didn’t they?” Harry said, smiling again, but this time it was odd, almost sad. 

 

Draco’s breath hitched. That wasn’t necessarily something only Potter would know, but it wasn’t something just  _ anyone _ would know. 

Harry was studying his face, perhaps searching for a sign of approval. 

 

Ding. Open. Close. 

 

“I don’t understand,” Draco finally said. 

“Understand what? That I’m me?” 

“No, that you’re here. I don’t understand why you’re here and why you’d find me and why you would want me back in your life,” Draco rambled, “After everything I’ve said, everything I did, to you-”

“Is water under the bridge in my book,” Harry smiled again, the sad smile that Draco decided he didn’t like at all. “And I said why.” 

“Hogwarts was miserable while we were there, why would you want it to be the same?” Draco answered. 

“Do you want me to just come out and say it?” Harry rolled his eyes. 

 

They watched the door opened and closed again. Draco’s floor would come soon. 

 

“Yes, you infuriating prick, that’s why I am asking!” Draco said, the familiar annoyance that always accompanied Harry’s presence sneaking back into his chest. Oddly, he found the feeling nice. 

“I say something stupid in the teacher’s lounge and I look up expecting you to be sneering back at me. I go out to fly sometimes, after the students have gone to bed, and I wish that there was someone I could have a seeker’s match against, and then I realize I don’t wish it was just  _ anyone _ , I wish it was you. Come back. I’ll even promise to keep pretending not to notice how you always stare at me whenever we were in the same room,” Harry rambled. 

“I didn’t stare,” Draco replied, weakly. 

“You did. So did I. And I realized I spent eight years wondering where you were, watching you, knowing everything about you without ever speaking directly to you for more than a minute, and even then, all our conversations were yelling matches,,” Harry admitted. “You think I was doing this saintly act, when I testified for you, no doubt, but the reason was entirely selfish. I didn’t want them to take you and lock you up where I couldn’t see you. But somehow, they still managed, because I haven’t seen you in, what, two years?”

“Must be about that,” Draco agreed, but his voice felt far away. He was vaguely aware that the door had opened to his floor and closed again, and now he was stuck going the rest of the way up. He knew all these details, these descriptions of their past, could have been cobbled together by anyone that watched them, but he wanted to badly to believe it  _ was  _ Potter, and something told him he could. 

“And all that time, I’ve felt this tug at the back of my mind, asking where you were, what you were doing? And for the first time, I couldn’t blame it on wanting to know because you could be considered a threat to me. I just wanted to know. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought of you, Draco,” Harry finished, carefully, the word awkward on his tongue. 

Draco felt vaguely as though he was going to vomit. 

 

Ding. Open. Close 

 

Draco once again became terribly aware of how small of a space they were in, which could be the only reason that Harry was so close to him, close enough for Draco to feel his body heat, to feel Harry’s breath against his cheek. And the reason that Harry’s eyes seem to be frequently trailing back down to his lips had to be that they were at his eye level when they were so close. Draco was too nervous to let himself think otherwise.

 

“I just- I just don’t understan-” Draco began. 

“Shit, Draco, I’m trying to say I like you. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be shrewd,” Harry said, pink rising to his cheeks.    
“Well, yes, I thought we both had settled on a civil “liking” of each other after the war, no point in being hostile,” Draco mumbled, still unwilling to accept what he knew was true. What he had hoped had been true ever since he realized his skin felt electric when Potter’s eyes were on him. 

“Not like- Fuck, Draco, you git, I mean-” Potter cut himself off by grabbing Draco’s face in his hands. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes dragging over Draco’s face, landing again at his lips, before he leant forward to close the space between them, pressing their lips together. 

 

Draco found his body moving of its own accord, one hand finding a place to rest at the nape of Harry’s neck, the other at Harry’s waist, pulling the other man closer to him still. Harry ran his tongue along his bottom lip, Draco gasping into the kiss as he did so. 

Harry pulled away, looking as shocked as Draco felt. 

“I meant like that,” Harry breathed. 

Harry smiled and brought their lips together again. 

 

The elevator opened to the top floor, closed, and stayed there, waiting for someone to press the call button. 

 

Draco pulled away, clearing his throat. He ran his fingers through his own hair, trying to regain some semblance of his usual put together self. 

“You got what you wanted, better get going,” Draco said cooly.  _ In character,  _ he thought to himself. 

“No, no that’s not- Draco, I wouldn’t- You couldn’t possibly-” Harry stuttered.

“I’ll be coming with you, of course.” Draco added, bringing Harry’s stream of confusion to a full stop. “Next time, I suggest you lead with your most convincing argument, Potter.” 

“Right,” Harry breathed a bit dazed. 

He hit the button for his own floor. 

“Don’t know if I’ll be taking that job offer though. I think I need much. More. Convincing.” 

He smiled and pulled Harry back towards him. 

 


End file.
